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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23150317">Jacky Graham gets Netted, Knocked Out and Knotted</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sjdrake2006/pseuds/sjdrake2006'>sjdrake2006</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Jacky Graham PI</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>BDSM, Bondage, Capture, Defeat, Detective, F/F, F/M, Head KO, Heroine Defeat, MILF, Peril, Sleepy/Unconscious Sex, Somnophilia, Unconscious, Unconscious Sex, bare feet, barefoot, female - Freeform, knocked out, ko, tied up</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 10:54:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,718</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23150317</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sjdrake2006/pseuds/sjdrake2006</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>While snooping at a warehouse one night in her bodystocking and bare feet, 49 year old Private Detective Mrs Jacky Graham is knocked unconscious and kidnapped.</p><p>This story contains sleepy and foot fetish content, bondage, nudity, torture, consensual and (bluffed) non-consensual sexual acts. If such things bother you, please don't read it.  This is a fetish fantasy,   It is tongue-in-cheek fiction.  The author would not wish these things to happen to anyone, male or female, in real life.</p><p>The stories tend to concentrate upon heroine defeat, knockouts, bondage and foot (barefoot) focus.<br/>Although Jacky always wins out in the end, she tends to suffer 'setbacks' along the way. If you like seeing the heroine lose (temporarily), get knocked out, be unconscious for some time, get played with and touched while she is unconscious, get tied up and some foot action and focus, then hopefully you will like this story.</p><p>My Deviantart gallery of pics and stories is here -<br/>https://www.deviantart.com/sjdrake2006</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jacky Graham/Husband. Jacky Graham/Captor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Jacky Graham gets Netted, Knocked Out and Knotted</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>My OC 49 year old married MILF PI, Mrs. Jacky Graham; wife, mother and private investigator who snoops by night in bodystocking and bare feet and has a penchant for peril, particularly of the sleepy and bondage brands! The five feet 8 inch hardheaded blue-eyed blonde Caledonian from the West coast frequently runs into danger when least expected in conducting her domestic private investigator's business based in Glasgow. Accustomed to the occasional setback - Jacky is no stranger to getting knocked unconscious as she snoops where she ought not to be, then tied up whilst she is knocked out -   Mrs Graham is lithe for her age and adept at escaping the resultant bondage! </p><p>All in a day’s work for the perfectly-pedded peril-prone PI from the Prestwick area. </p><p>Mrs. Jacky Graham is very much the sort of normal, pretty middleaged mature blonde next door whom you might meet picking her kids up from school, or going around the supermarket. Still looks striking, for her age but carries a little paunch and female curves.  Self-effacing yet assertive when required, the attractive, tallish broadshouldered blonde dressed in a black trainer top with black tracker long pants and black flats - at 49, a little older than many of the mothers there- might not particularly catch your attention. Yet her professional life as a PI can mean that domestic chores rub shoulders with sudden peril! </p><p>An hour and a half after dropping the kids at school - her kids busy in their classrooms and husband beavering away at work- the wife and mother of the family may be being held captive in a house in she was snooping ten miles away, slumped flopping in a chair, knocked unconscious and tied up! Clad only in her bodystocking and barefooted, a large bump may be welling up on the back of the Tarbolton ‘tec’s blonde-bobbed crown, the result of a heavy blow cracked into the base of Jacky’s sexy skull; whilst her limp, naked feet receive close attention from her captor. But with the return of consciousness and awareness, the ever-resourceful ‘Ayrshire Angel’ will find a way out of her predicament and the sexy sleuth will be home to pick the kids up! </p><p>Or - alternatively- maybe this had happened the night before: five hours before the kids were due at school their mother had groggily come to, unconscious for an hour from the knockout blow she had sustained whilst snooping (or from being gassed out or chloroformed unconscious or knocked out losing a fight); engineered an escape from the rope bondage imposed on her flaccid form while she was out, and returned home with the evidence needed to crack her case! The pretty fortysomething with blue eyes and eyeliner dropping her kids off will go home to be bedded by her husband, who has stayed home eager to hear about the events of the night before, his appetite whetted by finding a slight trace of blood on the pillow and the bump he had discovered on the base of his wife’s skull during the night, when she started with pain but didn’t wake up. Knowing his wife is safe, he is secretly aroused by her perils.</p><p>Despite the many perils and setbacks in a proportion of cases, Mrs Graham always succeeds, unhurt, in the end! </p><p>Fetishes principally covered -<br/>Bare Feet, bodystocking, peril/adventure, sleepy/knockouts/unconscious, bondage.</p><p> </p><p>Personal Details:</p><p> </p><p>    ·         Name: Mrs. Jacky Graham (maiden name. and business name as PI); married name: Mrs.<br/>Jacky Simons, formerly Mrs Jacky Bryce.</p><p>    ·         Height: 5 feet 8 inches / Weight: 10.5-11 stone (UK) = 150lbs.</p><p>    ·         Eyes: pale blue / Hair: blonde</p><p>    ·         Age: 49; her appearance is of a pretty, middle-aged woman you might meet at the local shopping<br/>centre or at the hairdressers.</p><p>    ·         Shoe size: UK 8  Dress size: UK 12. Breasts: 34d (UK) / Figure: 34-29-35.</p><p>    ·         Status: Married, second time to Richard Simons (polymath/accountant), divorced from first<br/>husband Robert Bryce (real estate  agent/landowner), of Texas, who is father of two<br/>children.</p><p>    ·         Children (by first husband): Girl (12) Boy (11).</p><p>    ·         Parents: living in Ayr, Ayrshire.</p><p>    ·         Siblings: no brothers; three sisters, Jacky is 2nd oldest of the 4 girls. </p><p>    ·         Residence: Tarbolton, Ayrshire, Britain / Office: George Street, Glasgow.</p><p>    ·         Car: blue metallic Nissan Note (UK) = Nissan Versa (US)</p><p>U    ·         Other: rides a bicycle sometimes with kids and husband; drives a 20-year-old Fiat motor<br/>home (barefoot on the pedals); adept at camping,  raising a tent, making a fire with<br/>firelighters and fuel.  </p><p> </p><p> </p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p> </p>
<h3>The rocking motion seemed quite soothing. It was like being rocked to sleep, except she seemed to be waking up. She needed soothing. Her head hurt. It ached at the back, it was laying on the cushion.<br/>
<br/>
She couldn't turn over. She just didn't seem to have the strength. Not only that, there was light coming through the bedroom window and it was stinging her eyes. Bright light. Oddly, it was moving. What was happening outside of the house? Her road wasn't terribly busy at all!<br/>
<br/>
She tried asking her husband what was happening but he didn't answer and anyway the words seemed thick in her mouth and didn't seem to be coming out right. She tried turning toward him but couldn't and then she noticed that she couldn't move her hands. They seemed stuck behind her and had pins and needles. She couldn't seem to move her feet either; they were clamped together at the ankles! She was stuck. She didn't like laying  flat either.<br/>
<br/>
Come to think of it, there didn't seem to be any pillows at all. She was bloody uncomfortable and with a nasty headache at back of her head. Her breasts and limbs seemed to ache also- and her pussy. Was it period pains? Neither could she get up to get any aspirins. She didn't seem too cold, but couldn't seem to feel the duvet laying on top of her. She was getting frightened; had she suffered a stroke or haemorrhage or some injury which prevented her from moving? She began to breathe more deeply.</h3><h3>Her eyes started to adjust to what was actually rather dim light, as she'd expect in her bedroom, but there did seem to be a constant engine noise. It was a constant hum, with occasional roaring coming toward her, always preceded by a bright light.<br/>
<br/>
Then things started to become clearer. her eyes also hurt at the back, but they started to see things more sharply and they seemed odd things to see in her own bed. Firstly, her bed had a high wall to her left, whereas usually she got out this side of bed where her dressing table was.<br/>
<br/>
Swivelling her eyes to the right, she seemed to see a head nodding; Hel-LO!  was Richard sitting up on his side of the bed? Why? Had he gone to the toilet? But what was oddest was that there seemed windows in front of her where the wardrobe usually stood, also to her right- where a wall ought to be and again to the left of her above the wall, which was where the window actually ought to be. But instead of a dim, distant, static glow from a couple of street lamps, these windows all displayed moving lights!  The lights from the wall side beyond where her husband lay got especially, wincingly bright, and came and went.<br/>
<br/>
Then matters got clearer still.  She wasn't in her bedroom at all- she was in a car! That explained a lot. Had she fallen asleep whilst Richard drove her somewhere? If so, why wasn't she dozing fitfully in the passenger seat, sitting up and wearing a seatbelt? Why was she laying on her back on the back seat? Odder and odder! And she'd left her soft contact lenses in. Now her eyes had watered and cleared a bit, she could see better.<br/>
<br/>
Now Jacky could see that she was wearing her bodystocking. It was pulled open, far apart all the way down to her crotch and her breasts hung out of it. Why was she wearing her bodystocking in the car? And why had it been pulled open so her boobs hung out? Had she fainted and had Richard been trying to revive her? Where were her clothes? Embarrassing. Why was she laying in a car, almost naked?<br/>
<br/>
Jacky started to twist and flex her head and her neck, then her body, then her ankles, trying to purchase some movement. She tried again, harder, frustrated, frightened, but it was in vain.  All she could ascertain was that if she twisted to her right, she wouldn't see her husband but more likely would fall off of the back seat and wedge uncomfortably between the seats, probably making the back of her head ache worse. Why had Richard left her in the back like this and where was he driving them? Had she gotten drunk? That might explain her headache, at least.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
"Richard. Where are we?" the enquiry was made. What came out was "Ricchrddwhrearewe" slurred slowly.<br/>
<br/>
The head to her right turned to one side and spoke. It wasn't her husband's head at all, nor his voice.<br/>
<br/>
"Ah, the sleeper wakes! I was wondering when you'd bother to rejoin me. I was beginning to worry that  you'd be spark out all night!"<br/>
<br/>
It was the voice of a younger man, and he seemed quite at home with the fact that she'd been laying there on the back seat of the car. Was he helping her? Had she got hurt and he was taking her to hospital?<br/>
<br/>
"WhtsshappenewhyamIhre? Can't move."<br/>
<br/>
"Take your time, Mrs. Graham. You've taken quite a heavy blow to your head when I knocked you out, but it's a penalty you pay for snooping about where you really oughtn't be, you nosy, interfering,  dopey old cow!! I had no choice"<br/>
<br/>
Jacky stopped to think about this reply and now fragments began to come back, fragments which reassembled with the fact of her being in the car with this man driving her.<br/>
<br/>
That's right....she'd been snooping around the abandoned premises of Barassie Printing Works in the old run-down industrial estate. Not much left there now but her client had said that a member of staff had been seen by a business acquaintance going in there twice- and stashing some stolen equipment away for recovery at a later date. She'd left Richard and the kids in bed, driven across and sneaked in at about 20 past midnight wearing her trusty bodystocking. Her flashlight hadn't been that bright and she'd had to watch her step in her bare feet for any broken glass, but she felt she might be onto something, wasn't expecting any trouble and was just thinking to herself 'Cool Beans!' when something fell on top of her- a heavy, thick-meshed rope net!<br/>
<br/>
Of course, she'd been shocked when it happened and her knee-jerk reaction had been to struggle fruitlessly to free herself, dropping her flashlight in the process and just getting more enmeshed. Then something had struck her hard  -very hard-  in the back of her head, her eyes seemed to pop out, red lights exploded in her brain along with unbearable pain, knees buckled suddenly and the ground had come rushing up with a bump that winded her, then everything went black and that's all she knew- or remembered- till now!<br/>
<br/>
Martin still vividly recalled seeing the meddling matron go down. His first thought, as his stick impacted the base of the blonde’s skull with a hollow thud, had been relief. He’d watched as her tall body, poleaxed and knocked out where she stood, fell forward like an inert sack, hitting the ground full force along her length, taking the impact upon her breasts, forehead cracking into the floor, her entire body then bouncing back an inch or two before dropping into the hard concrete, utterly still and motionless. Mrs Graham was really gone, knocked right out. It was the first time he’d ever knocked someone cold, or seen them unconscious and he felt a thrill of conquest, the hunter subduing his prey. She was his! Literally- in every sense of the word, his. He checked the woman’s vital signs to make sure she wasn’t to rob him of his reward. He had read up about Mrs. Jacky Graham, the ‘barefoot detective’ and, to his elation, here were the crinkled grimy soles of her fabled bare feet staring limply up at him in mute submission, unconscious, defeated, his to do whatever he wanted with, to enjoy! He had put one floppy foot - her left-  into his mouth and sucked hungrily upon the erotic, curvy ped immediately! As he drove, he became erect again with the memory of seeing, touching, tasting and dragging the downed detective’s smooth, soft fragrant flesh.<br/>
<br/>
She’d been just a lump of limp, flaccid  and arousing flesh in the hours since his hard hits to her head had laid her out.<br/>
<br/>
Mrs Graham’s reanimated mind cleared the lingering effects of the blow to her skull. That explained it all, more or less. Raticus! She'd been caught in a net and then knocked out cold whilst she was snooping! Now she'd been tied up on the back seat of this car. Her captor had clearly taken a good look at her at the very least, pulling her bodystocking wide open! It felt as though he’d done more than just look at her.<br/>
<br/>
"How?" Jacky croaked through a dry mouth. "How did you know? What did you do to me? What are you going to do- with me...now? I could do with a glass of water."Her voice cracked.<br/>
<br/>
Keeping his eyes on the road, the man - now Jacky recognised him as Fraser Martin, a young man from her client's factory- who again turned his head and tapped the side of his nose, knowingly.<br/>
<br/>
"No water yet. I'm driving." He deliberately took a swig of something himself from some cupholder beside him.  A spiteful little touch.<br/>
<br/>
"By the way, don't even bother trying to scream. I didn't bother gagging you, because we need to talk and because anyway if you try, I'll pull over, come across and lay you out again. You can't stop me punching you out; you've slept half the night away already and if you want to spent the other half of the night unconscious too, go ahead."<br/>
<br/>
"OK. Don't hit me again. I'll co-operate. You seem to hold all the cards." Jacky's mouth was so dry, talking came hard. If she didn't get a drink, she might pass out again anyway.<br/>
<br/>
"Understood. I'll water you shortly. If you need to pee, go ahead as you are.  Anyway, a little bird told me that an old bird would be coming calling tonight. I've had to think very quickly, but I rigged up the rope net trap at a strategic point and you obligingly blundered in underneath it. Once you were enmeshed in it, all I had to do was crack you over the back of your thick blonde skull with my sister's hockey stick. You gave a sort of gutteral groan, and down you went - and out like a light! You hit the ground full force on your melons, bounced then flopped flat and still on your face."<br/>
<br/>
Martin could still see her now, in his mind’s eye. Flopped forward facedown across the debris-strewn floor. The back of a blond bob, a little blood in it. Broad shoulders and a woman’s curves. A thin g-string, labia curled around it. Long, curvy well muscled legs;  body, arms and legs all covered in a thin, stocking-like mesh. Her feet, bare, soles facing up toward the ceiling, crinkled and covered with dirt and grime from the floor. His dick had gone stiff inside his trousers and he’d unzipped to let it thrust out horizontally, above the already-horizontal body of the unconscious woman. He was hard again now, thinking about it. Lifting her limp, heavy head by the mane of blonde hair, he picked it up and saw the face; pretty but  blank of expression, mouth open, eyes lined in blue. He could see down her cleavage at the woman’s bruised breasts.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, MAN! It bloody hurts. That explains my headache. And my breasts. What then? Why do my limbs- and my..uhm, intimate region- also hurt?  And what are your plans for me?"Now that she was talking, Jacky's mind became cooler. Adrenalin rush. Think of a way out, old girl. She turned her head and  looked at Martin's back and beyond. A digital clock on the dashboard read 3.25am. The centre of the steering wheel sported a Toyota symbol.<br/>
<br/>
"Why do you think that they ache, Mrs. Great Detective? There we were both alone together in an abandoned warehouse at 1 o'clock  in the morning, with plenty of time to spirit you away from the warehouse and you all knocked out and unconscious and floppy and helpless,  wearing only that see-through fishnet thing that looks as though you're absolutely drooling for somebody to give you a good rogering.! It's even crotchless- good grief, all I had to do was push your g-string to one side and there you were open for the taking! We had plenty of time, I had the inclination, you had presented yourself on a plate and you were going to be incredibly co-operative."<br/>
<br/>
"You fucked me?"<br/>
<br/>
"Too right I did! You had it coming. I pulled the net off of you a little then grabbed your ankles and dragged you out. You're a bloody heavy deadweight, but when I saw you laying there limp and vulnerable like that I had a hard-on and had to have you. You were all feminine curves, your tits, your torso, your legs- the arches of your feet. I unzipped that stocking thing you’re wearing and your tits jumped out, waiting to be used.<br/>
<br/>
I pulled off my trousers and underpants and let my dick stick out, rolled a lubed condom onto it then laid on top you and started sucking and kissing at you. I started off kissing your face and neck, rolled you about then sucked and gnawed at your teats and melons, then spent ages savouring your bare feet with my tongue and teeth. I sucked them all over, toes, soles, balls- the lot! Every ridge of hard skin, every curve.<br/>
<br/>
When I felt hot enough, I plunged deep into your pussy and let you have it in full, pumping hard. Screwed you silly, screwed you over just like you'd been trying to do to me."<br/>
<br/>
Jacky's body crawled at the thought of what he'd been doing to her unaware body.<br/>
<br/>
But- He was lying. He hadn't actually done this at all. Not there, not in that environment, not hot and frightened from the emotion of catching the private detective trying to bust him, then putting her out of action! Not in the dirt and squalor of the dirty warehouse, with a thin trail of blood showing in the woman's hair. The young man had been quite unable to even maintain an erection at all.  He had only been able to look at her, not enter her. In the end he’d whacked himself off into a condom whilst looking at her limp body, after pressing and rolling his rod against her soles.  Humiliated, he planned to put that right when he reached his hideout. But his immature masculine pride and the need to throw this cool, arrogant woman out of her stride, impelled Fraser Martin to lie. He'd actually swung his stick to hit the stilled snoop once more in her soft and intimate zone to try to simulate how he guessed she might feel if he had screwed her.<br/>
<br/>
"Thank you. I'm glad you treated me with such respect. So you thoroughly violated me. What a man. See you came equipped with condoms too, for your date? Fancied your chances? Worried I might have your baby?"<br/>
<br/>
"Nope. Doubt you can still have 'em anyway.  Just keen there shouldn't be any evidence after I've killed you. It's how to dispose of you that I'm not sure of. Get it wrong and its years put away. I wasn't going to leave my jism dripping on you. But I'd seen you in the office- you're a sexy woman, if twice my age- and I reckoned that if I knocked you unconscious, I might as well make use of you before getting rid. In for a penny, in for a pound! When you turned up wearing that outfit, I had to have you!  You started to come round after I screwed you, started moaning and moving, so I delivered another crack with the hockey stick to the back of your head and I haven't heard another peep from you till now. Dragged you out to the car by your wrists, picked you up and tossed you into the back seat, but you're a tall quoin and I had to go to the other door and pull you along the length of the back seat. I'd been thorough in planning to take you and I brought rope, so then I tied your ankles together and also your wrists, after I tipped you sideways a little to get to them. You weren't going anywhere except where I wanted. " Still maintaining the fiction of abusing his captive, Martin boasted bombastically.<br/>
<br/>
No wonder her head hurt so. He'd hit her over it twice! But at least she now and at last had notice of his intentions; as she'd feared, they were murderous, but like most people suddenly forced to contemplate this most capital of crimes, he quailed, preferring to mark time with detailed planning of the deed, no doubt interspersed with further, agreeable, sexual use of his captive.<br/>
<br/>
But not agreeable to Jacky.<br/>
<br/>
It was fortunate, she thought, that she hadn’t awoken with amnesia after the two knockout blows to her poor skull. Had she done so, she’d not know who she was, or where, or why, submitted to sex with Martin then gone along quietly to her doom. At least her wits remained to her, if not her freedom; she must plan her escape!<br/>
<br/>
Unfortunately, as she'd already noticed shortly after waking up, she was bound tight, both hand and foot. Her arms were pinioned underneath her back and she couldn’t yet move them. Her bare feet could only move millimetres against the rope welting her slim ankles. Once again the captive MILF twisted and struggled, pulling for her life against her bonds! But Martin had had time to make good strong knots about her extremities and all that the pulling and resistance achieved was welted ankles and welted wrists. Clearly, from her position on her back, the Tarbolton 'tec could expect to make no headway toward escape.<br/>
<br/>
Jacky's mind, returning to a semblance of its sharpness before the multiple impacts of the hockey stick had rendered it senseless for a couple of hours, simultaneously computed where they might be headed. Fraser Martin had said he'd knocked her out at about 1am, which squared with her getting there to begin searching at 12.20am. If she allowed an hour or so for him to fuck around with her unconscious body, then drag her into his car and bind her, that made it 2am; but from the dashboard, it was now 3.25am.  So they'd been driving for well over an hour! Where were they headed?<br/>
<br/>
"Where are we headed to? What do I call you?"  Jacky decided to employ The Direct Approach; and don't let on she knew who he was- as if her position could be made very much worse than it already was!<br/>
<br/>
"I rent a little cottage near Campbeltown.  I like coastal spots. So useful for trading in commodities - and illicit disposal of middleaged nosy parkers masquerading  as detectives who should have kept their noses out of matters that don't concern them!<br/>
Oh- and if you are to call me anything, it can be Sex Lord. You're very lucky to be getting  strong, long young dick like mine stuck deep into your old pussy.  Make the most of it! I'll give you another good seeing-to tonight. You'll like that." Boasting again. It kept his ego inflated, like an air pump working into a punctured bicycle tyre.<br/>
<br/>
Jacky decided to forego a direct response to this tempting invitation. She'd gone fishing for information and caught more than she anticipated, albeit she also had received a homily on her captor's rod. She merely looked daggers at the young man who had apparently abused her poor body.<br/>
<br/>
"Keeping your mouth shut now are we, Mrs. Graham? You didn't a couple of hours ago, when I decided I needed to siphon off some of my excess enthusiasm for your limp bod. I didn't want to risk cumming as i entered you, so I popped a condom on and stuck my dick into your slack mouth. I held your loose, heavy head still placing my hands on your soft cheeks- noting you had an old scar with some stitches on your upper lip - and wiggled my stiff rod into your half open orifice, opening it further. When I could feel your teeth lightly touching my erection, I slammed my dick in, spurted violently, pumping into your mouth with energetic relief! Fortunate for you I decided not to let you swallow my jism, I didnt want you carrying evidence or choking to death- yet. Once I'd relieved myself the once, I knew I'd be able to maintain a long enjoyable pumping session when I fucked you fully afterward. You’ve got amazingly sexy feet too, for a woman your age. It’s because you go barefoot a lot. I had a very long, hard suck on them!<br/>
<br/>
If it helps, you were the best fuck I ever had in my life. Long, sensual and one-sided. You took it all, knocked unconscious. Pity your husband won't be able to appreciate how totally I've had his missis." More boasting about actions he had been quite unable to carry out- except for enjoying her feet. But it kept this impossibly superior woman on the defensive, made her feel defeated. Even now, tied up and still dazed, Martin feared his captive.<br/>
<br/>
Jacky declined to comment further upon her apparent and detailed violation by her captor.  He was trying to draw a response, for whatever perverted reason might get him off. Perhaps he was just looking for an excuse to hit her again? It was imperative not to draw that upon herself! Anyway, Mrs Graham had always known that getting caught snooping could carry a ‘penalty ‘. A sexual penalty. This time, it looked like she’d paid that penalty, in full. That was no longer her main worry, though.<br/>
<br/>
The Tarbolton 'tec had realised that the clock was ticking frighteningly.  Martin had already made it clear he intended to kill her. It looked as though the possibility of screwing her a couple more times might have bought a little time, but once she was inside his hideout there was no assurance he wouldn't batter her half to death to keep her docile as well as fuckable. He had also to think out a way of disposing of her safely!<br/>
<br/>
So that made it imperative she try to escape along the way- not to mention that Richard and the kids would be worried to death about her. How to escape though? Jacky wriggled and then wriggled some more. Then a further wiggle and she had an idea! The 49 year old pushed up and fell back, pushed again- then pushed a third time.<br/>
<br/>
Mrs Graham sat up. She coughed a few times and looked about her from the new vantage point. Fraser Martin was sitting at the wheel of a Toyota - seemingly quite an old one, perhaps 15 or 20 years old, a 4WD by its size, height and width. He seemed comfortably ensconced, with beverages and personal stuff in the cupholders' depressions next to his seat. Martin glanced in his rear view mirror and as Jacky gazed, she saw a bulge develop in Fraser's trousers as he spoke to her!<br/>
"Lay back down, Mrs. Graham, or maybe I should say Jacky, as I've known you so well! I didn't say you could sit up."<br/>
<br/>
"You didn't say I couldn't either.  Look Sex Lord, let me tell you something about getting knocked out.  When you come to, you sometimes want to throw up. Especially if you've been belted across the head, twice! If you make me lay down again on my back, I'll be redecorating your car in a bright coloured spray and endowing it with a very pungent, hard-to-shift odour. Not great if you are planning on committing a murder, and I might choke to death anyway."<br/>
<br/>
"OK. Sit up then. But don't move!"<br/>
<br/>
"Thank you. A drink of water might help too."<br/>
<br/>
"Later- I told you earlier. Just sit still."<br/>
<br/>
Jacky did sit still; though in the darkness of the cabin her left hand crept along the seat gradually, the blades in rings on two of her fingers released and having already freed her wrists from their bindings. Shortly the blades engaged with the ropes binding her ankles also and soon those too fell loose!<br/>
<br/>
The vehicle bored on through the night; the Scots' sleuth sitting quietly, head dipped between her parted knees as if trying to recover from the effects of getting knocked unconscious a couple of hours back, but now free of her bonds and waiting her chance. Jacky considered attacking Martin as he drove, using her ring blades, or trying to choke him; but although this remained the option of final resort, she dismissed this as too risky. Not only might she prove unable to seriously injure Martin in her still-shocked state, but even if she succeeded in some degree, he might crash the car, injuring or killing one or both of them; or worse still, drive into another, innocent vehicle to cause untold loss!<br/>
<br/>
Jacky decided to wait; Martin had indicated he might pull over and give her water and maybe an opportunity might present itself, as the car pulled up.<br/>
<br/>
In fact, 10 minutes later a small, lit up 24 hour petrol station hove into view and Martin pulled over into the otherwise-deserted unit, got out to top up, then headed into the station kiosk.<br/>
The eagle-eyed investigator had spotted her assailant's wallet sitting in the cupholder; realising he had inadvertently left it behind, Jacky seized her chance!!<br/>
<br/>
Vaulting over into the front seats, Jacky started the automatic vehicle with the key in the ignition, locked the door and drove away furiously, wheels squealing as she turned the nose 180 degrees to head in the opposite direction of travel, finding the headlight switch and setting it to full beam, for the moment. She once again noted Fraser Martin's wallet with card, mobile phone and drink next to her.<br/>
<br/>
The fuel gauge showed just under half full.<br/>
<br/>
Greedily sucking at the half-empty bottle of pop, Jacky pushed the long-naked sole of her bare right foot down onto the accelerator petrol. The GPS on the dashboard showed the car was only about 12 miles from Ardgartan in Dumbartonshire on the A83.<br/>
<br/>
She had a long drive back to Barassie, near Troon, starting through Tarbert and heading South toward Glasgow. But Fraser Martin was now devoid of any means of getting back to Barassie himself and now her poor, rattled brain was settling down Jacky intended to go back to Barassie Printing Works and nail that evidence she'd been so close to before Martin had netted her and cracked her over the head, 2 and a half hours before! Unless that is, it was in the trunk of the car. She'd check it out before getting there. Back at Barassie by 5, get the evidence; home by 6 or 6.30- still in time to help Richard get the kids ready for school!<br/>
<br/>
Then breakfast - and a morning off to soothe her belted skull, clean up her violated vagina (she'd later find it to be only bruised around her labia)  and catch up on genuine sleep, not the forced sort, before heading to the office in the afternoon!<br/>
<br/>
Her husband would no doubt require an explanation of her return home so much later than anticipated- 4 or 5 hours later- but nothing that could not be filled in by her exposition of succumbing to a trap and getting knocked out, touched up and and tied up, spending 2 or 3 hours unconscious, a 125 mile detour and the completion of a case with appropriate remuneration. He would no doubt supply the tender loving care to provide balm for her bruises.<br/>
<br/>
Mrs Graham drove South, toward Ayrshire, toward the sun, success and a finalised case.<br/>
<br/>
FINIS.</h3>
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